28 Sep 2005

If it wasn’t for the short lifespan and garbage eating, I think I would very much enjoy being a fly – just so that I could hang out on that proverbial wall and casually listen to other people’s conversations all day.

Rather than pray to Mother Teresa, Pappa Smurf or whoever it is that reincarnates people into creatures, I have found my eavesdropping salvation via iPod. All you need to do is sit somewhere in public, pop your headphones on, put a crossword puzzle in front of you and let the listening begin. The key is to put the iPod volume to nadda and tap your pencil or straw to a beat so that people think that you’re very consumed by your music. If you do this, the people around you will carry on with their ridiculous private conversations right in front of you, completely unaware of the fact that you are feverishly listening and noting every syllable for future blogging.

Once, two late-twenties/early-thirties guys plunked down at table near me one morning to enjoy coffee and fatty baked goods. The conversation started off normally enough and I was about to turn on my iPod for real when the guy wearing a blazer and jeans (that’s right – blazer – not a jacket – a blazer - with jeans. On a man. Not in 1984) started to bitch about a woman he was seeing.

Blazer Man: Yah, I guess I put her on too high a pedestal. She just seemed like the total package.Non-Blazered Man: Sure.Blazer Man: I’m at the point where I want something more serious, long-term – but things have to be just right, ya know?

Non-Blazered Man: *Grunt/Mumble Noise*

Blazer Man: It’s just that …

He looks around to see if it’s safe to talk. I remember again to tap my pen to a beat to comfort him and he looks satisfied with this and continues.

Blazer Man: It’s just that her nipples are really brown, man.Non-Blazered Man: Ugh! That sucks.Blazer Man: I know!

When I heard that, I had to try real hard not to twist my face and blow my cover. It would never occur to me that nipple colour would be a big concern to men, let alone a deal-breaker.

Blazer Man: You’d never guess it, eh? If she was black, yah, I could imagine it – prepare myself, but not her.

Sadly, this WAS a real conversation I happened upon. When someone talks about a flaw they see in someone else, I can think of about a million possibilities (because, you know, I'm pretty judge-y), but none of which have anything to do with nipples.

I can't imagine that being 'normal' for most guys. I think these dudes were just a weird blazer-wearing / blazer-tolerating breed. I hope.

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Who's Smashing The Keyboard?

My name is Jen and I look like that picture at all times. I enjoy appetizers as entrees, fountains choreographed to music and television shows intended for teenage girls. Oh - and I really dislike it when people spell it "Jenn"; it's practically a phobia.